Mystery, Inc: Unleashed
by Myst-X
Summary: The gang discovers troubles in each of their lives and try to find a way out. But when things couldn't get bad enough, Scooby vanishes mysteriously. Along with Scooby-Doo's disappearance, they find a note. ..... I'VE FINALLY UPDATED!
1. Don't Know What to Do

MYSTERY, INC.: UNLEASHED  
  
BY: MYST_X  
  
Disclaimer: I do not (though every bit of my heart wish I could) own any of the Scooby-Doo characters, preferably Mystery, Inc. They are the property of Warner Bros. and Hanna-Barbera. I am writing this story without permission and its not for a profit. There, I said it.  
  
Summary: The gang discovers troubles in each of their lives and try to find a way out. But when things couldn't get bad enough, Scooby vanishes mysteriously. Along with Scooby-Doo's disappearance, a note is found and the gang is on the biggest adventure of their lives!  
  
A/N: Okay. Let's get started. After reading many Scooby-Doo fanfics and staying at home trying to write a sufficient fanfic of my own, I think I have started one that is sure to be good. I hope (really!) that you Scooby fans will really like it cuz I've been a Scooby fan for a couple of years now and when your a fan of something, ideas invade your mind and from there come: fanfics! MWUAHAHAHAHA--okay I'll stop. Anyways . . . this is kind of one of those stories that come to mah' mind in full color and animation and think would be totally awesome. (okay, maybe nobody has experienced that but thats okay!) It has humor, angst, and just general stuff. I try to be as funny as possible without ruining the situation. For me, a story, fanfic or movie with no humor is NO GOOD AT ALL! But that's just one person's opinion, folks . . .  
  
Sooooooooooooooooo. . . . . in the end, I hope you really love it. It's done by P.O.V.'s and I'm sorry if you hate stories like that so if you do then don't read it at all. I stuck the first four chapters in cuz it mainly would make sense that way: Freddie, Daphne, Shaggy, Velma. So far, the way the story goes, it's going well in how I ordered them. So just read the story!!!!  
  
My comment on these four chapters will be on the fourth chapter.  
  
DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO  
(freddie's p.o.v.)  
  
I stare at the dark space where a few stars twinkle in the distance. I find myself asking why I'm here in the first place. I'm just staring at a sparkling velvet sky. Then I feel someone squeeze my shoulder and a voice whisper, "They're starting."  
  
It's Daphne. She reminds me what I am here for---the fireworks that marked the day the Declaration of Independence was written. Actually, it was written July 2nd, I remind myself recalling all those history teachers that were determined to get in students' heads that fact. They usually do do it on the 2nd but because it was pouring two days ago, the fireworks that were supposed to go off on the 2nd were moved to the 4th.  
  
I turn to my left to see my best friend sitting on a blanket with his dog. Shaggy and Scooby-Doo. Teen and dog. I frown because we haven't been really talking and joking around like best friends do. Or are supposed to. I know it and I know he knows it, too. Now he's sitting by "man's best friend", his best friend now. I'm just a friend. And him and I may know why.  
  
Then I see Velma come and sit by him. She's just smart. I'd guess you could say the smartest among us though I find myself hard to admit. Then after her I'd say I'm the smartest but when I said that once aloud they said that Daphne's a little bit smarter. Maybe their right. But secretly, I'd like to prove them wrong.  
  
The fireworks this year are better than last year's puny ones. Last year they whined but now they explode. They're bigger and are filled with more color. The crowd "Ooooo's" more than last year, too, though that's something I could do without. (They almost sound like cows.)  
  
I lean against the front of the Mystery Machine and watch quietly as the fireworks pass, one by one. Daphne turns around and sees I'm in a sulky mood.  
  
"What's the matter?," she asks.  
  
"Huh?," I say as I look up. "Oh, nothing. I just don't feel like 'ooing'." I smirk. "Or senioritis could be hitting me."  
  
"Senioritis?" Daphne's mouth twists. "Senioritis," she repeats and shakes her head, turning back around.  
  
I shrug and look back up at the sky as the big finale explodes vividly. A "wow" from Daphne, an "amazing" from Velma, a "row" from Scooby, and a final "like, totally awesome" from the one-and-only Shaggy. I climb into the Mystery Machine as Velma and Shaggy fold up the blanket and Scooby is put in the back. Everyone is finally in so I rev up the van and move out.  
  
Daphne notices my stern face again because I see her from the corner of my eye eyeing me, confused. I ignore the fact and stop the van at Shaggy's house. Shaggy thanks me for the ride and I say it's no problem. They head out and I head back onto the road.  
  
The van is quiet all the way to Velma's house. Velma also thanks me and I answer, "Any time." She gets out and again we're on the road.  
  
Now I'm getting nervous. It's not because I'm driving alone with a former crush; it's because she knows there's something wrong with me and she might point it out now that we're alone. I speed up and Daphne recognizes it but just says, "Be careful. They're still police on the road at night."  
  
I sigh quietly and reluctantly slow the van down. Finally, we're at her place.  
  
I decide to say, "Here's your stop," to see if it has any affect on the day she decides to get up and out. To me it seems like forever.  
  
She takes a breath in, as if she's going to say something. I hold my breath and wait, wait for her comment on my attitude. But she doesn't comment on my attitude; she just says, "Well, thanks" and "see you 'round." She smiles and gets out. I breathe again.  
  
I drive to my house, park, get out, and get in the house. My mom's in the kitchen and my dad's in the living room watching baseball. Dad's glued to the television so it's Mom who notices me.  
  
"Hey, Freddie," she says as she lowers the heat on the stove. She comes over, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and sits me down at the kitchen table. "I made you pasta and I want you to eat it. You didn't eat anything before you left." She sounds tired as she talks so I get up and decide to help her. It's one of the few times I help around the kitchen.  
  
"You can sit down, Mom," I say, putting my hand on her shoulder. "I'll serve myself."  
  
She sighs and says, "If you think I'm tired, Fred, I'm not. Why don't you sit down?" She sounds annoyed, plus she called me Fred. She's been having trouble finding a job after being laid off by a small company. I think about taking her word for it and sitting down, but I don't because it must feel really bad going through the things she's going through.  
  
"Mom, you've gone through a lot today. I can serve myself. Like the Pull- Ups commercial: 'I'm a big kid now!'" She laughs quietly, nods her head, and says, "Okay." So she goes and rests while I serve myself some pasta.  
  
I sit down with my big plate of spaghetti and start eating. I'm forcing myself to each bite. In the end, I'm playing with the fork and spaghetti, twirling and moving it around on my plate.  
  
"You're not hungry?," I hear Mom say. She's the second person to notice that I'm not in the greatest mood.  
  
I look up and shrug. "I guess not," I respond and get up with my plate of spaghetti and put it on the counter. "I'm goin' to sleep." She's about to say something when I say, "Goodnight," and go up the stairs to get ready for bed. I take a shower and put on my PJ's and now I'm laying down on my bed trying to fathom why I'm in such a murky mood. Well, for one, Mom's put me in a depressing mood. She rarely has a smile on her face anymore. And my favorite baseball team isn't doing so well. But I know I'm trying hard not to admit the real reason.  
  
I don't have a best friend. I just hang out with the sports-obsessed guys at school. That's it. I lost my best friend two years ago. I guess I lost him to different interests. Different classes. Different beliefs maybe? No. We both believed that school sucked. That horror movies were the best. That rock and punk was the best music ever.  
  
I grew out of skateboarding, though. Grew out of rollerblading. Grew out of foolishness in classes. Became more serious about school. Joined baseball, football, and basketball. Maybe that's why?  
  
It can't be. I'm still hooked on snowboarding.  
  
But he's more into skateboarding.  
  
It still can't be. He doesn't fool around in classes anymore.  
  
But he's not in Honors classes like I am, lowering the chances for him and I to be in the same classes.  
  
It cannot be. He's in track and basketball.  
  
But he's not into baseball and football and any other sports.  
  
I think again and we both still love horror movies and rock and punk and we both don't think school is the greatest thing. And we both love roller coasters which pops up in my mind now.  
  
I guess it has to be the seriousness. And the fact that I always make him bait in our mysteries.  
  
Mysteries.  
  
Maybe that's why?  
  
We have been solving mysteries since the eighth grade. And now that I think of it, it is getting kind of tiring. Too tiring. Way tiring.  
  
That must be my second reason. Sure it was exciting at a 14-year-old level. But I'm 17. That's a big difference. And it's a guy (or girl) in a freaking mask every single freaking time. (Wo. I'll try to calm down). It's true, though. It's getting annoying.  
  
Now I'm laying down on my bed, staring stupidly at my ceiling because I figured out my problem but I don't know what to do.  
  
I don't know what to do.  
  
And I fall asleep. I fall asleep, still not knowing.  
  
Not knowing what to do. 


	2. I Don't Have Parents

I DON'T HAVE PARENTS  
(daphne's p.o.v.)  
  
I walk into my room with Freddie on my mind. He was acting strange at the fireworks display and didn't seem to enjoy them. Senioritis, he said. Senioritis. That must have been one of the lamest excuses I've ever heard. From him, anyway. Senioritis is that "disease" made up by schoolteachers and known by us schoolkids that is said to attack us at the end of the school year, preferably Seniors in high school. What the "disease" does is take our attention off from studying and schoolwork while we dream of summer vacation. But Freddie was looking at it another way. I guess he said "Senioritis" with the topic on his mind that we were going to be Seniors in a few weeks.  
  
Seniors already.  
  
Seniors finally.  
  
The thought lingers my mind when I hear the grand main entrance doors shut loudly. Daddy and Mom are here!  
  
I run down the stairs in a flash, almost tripping over the steps, just to see my parents after their 2 week long business trip. I almost fall at the last few steps but I hold the railing with both hands and hold my ground. I look up and they're not there.  
  
They're probably in the library.  
  
I swing around the stairs with my hands still gripping onto the railing and start to run again towards the library. I reduce my speed as I reach the distinguished doors of the mansion's library. The mahogany entrance trimmed in gold is breathtaking and wonderful to look at. The only way you can look at this masterpiece is if the doors are closed. And the doors are closed. If the doors are closed, they might not be there. I think whether I should take my chances of opening a heavy wooden door to a dark, empty library. Should I?  
  
I decide to take my chances. If they're not there then I can look somewhere else, right? Though it would seem odd that they would go anywhere else. They couldn't have gone upstairs because I just came from there. And the elevator isn't working.  
  
I take a good grasp of the golden handle and pulled with all the might that's in me. The door opens 2 or 3 inches and a ray of light shoots out. I hesitantly put my face to the crack to see what lies behind. I open the door a little wider. And then, I swing it open.  
  
Because: he's there.  
  
He's there and a whole lot more.  
  
Businessmen and women sitting around the long rectangle table. My dad at one of the ends. It's like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.  
  
No.  
  
It's more like Chief Executive Blake and the Businessmen of the Rectangle Table. They're not noble and dignified like knights would be, sitting at a table. They shake papers up in the air. They shout statistics. Compare with competitors. Are nervous and uneasy in their business suits which rarely vary from navy or gray. And my father just sits at the far end of the table and goes along with it. He doesn't notice me. He didn't come to check on his only child, "Daddy's girl."  
  
I close the door as silently as I opened it. A tear rolls down my face and I quickly bring my hand up to my face to dry it off. I'm being dumb. Why am I crying? I'm feeling sorry for myself, that's why. And I can't because it's selfish.  
  
I walk to the stairs this time. I walk up the stairs this time. I walk throught the corridor this time. And a thought hits my head. Mom! Where is she? Could I have missed her in the library? Maybe she--  
  
I hear her voice. It's coming from her room. I walk fast-paced and, a few feet from her door, tip-toe. I grab the frame of the doorway and move my head a little into the room. But there's no need for such stealth. She's talking. Talking on the phone with her best friend Margaret. I know she's talking to her by the frequent, "You know, Margie?", every 5 seconds. She's talking to her about the business trip and how the hotel they stayed at was "magnificent" and the massages they gave were "invigorating".  
  
You'd think she would talk these things with her teenage daughter. But she picks up the phone instead and tells her best bud.  
  
I lift up my hanging head and walk back to my room. What's the use of constantly looking for attention from my parents? A lot of kids would love to have their parents away from home, not pay attention to their every move. "Honey, where are you going?" "When will you be back?" "Who are you going with?" "Did you do your chores?" "I was worried about you while I was gone!"  
  
That's the one I expected. The last one. I could be lying dead in my room and my dad would be leading his meeting in the library. I could have been kidnapped and never been heard of again and my mom would be chatting on the phone. I could have runaway from home and never come back and my parents would have been clueless. Because they would have been busy. There's no time for their daughter. They'll check on her later. After the business meeting and after the talk on the phone. She can wait.  
  
I'm crying on my pillow because other kids don't know how lucky they are to have nagging parents. So it gets annoying sometimes, maybe a lot of times. But at least you know someone cares and loves you. Maybe my parents care, but they don't show it.  
  
My pillow is wet and I turn it on the other side to weep again. I don't want to be selfish. Other kids don't have a huge roof to live under, a humongous kitchen to live off from, a laptop with full access to the internet and a cellphone you don't have to pay for. Some kids don't even have parents.  
  
But then again, that's how I feel. What's the use of all the luxury, when you don't even get to see your parents on a daily basis. What's the use of a huge mansion to live under and all these freedoms when you practically live by yourself in it with only butlers and maids here and there. It's not even like I have a brother or sister to keep me company and my friends have their own lives so they can't be with me everyday of my life. All these material possessions don't make up for a girl's happiness.  
  
It's like I don't have parents.  
  
I don't have parents. 


	3. Can't Take It

CAN'T TAKE IT  
(shaggy's p.o.v.)  
  
"Like, goodnight, Scoob."  
  
"Roodnight, Raggy." Scooby walks into his doghouse and I close the door.  
  
My foot lands on something soft. I look down and one of my sister's dumb dolls is squashed under my foot.  
  
"Mommy! Like, do you know where Veronica is?," I hear an irritating voice yell.  
  
"No, Sugie! Go check with your brother!"  
  
"Shaggy? Shaggy doesn't even know where his own stereo is under the big piles of clothes in his room!"  
  
I was going to tell Sugie that I found her stupid doll. I was going to tell her nicely. But there are certain points in life that keep one from doing the kind deeds that one sometimes feels like doing.  
  
I kick the doll to the side and keep walking. I hear Sugie walk into the kitchen as I start to leave.  
  
"Hey, Veronica! She's all . . . dirty? It's a big feetprint!"  
  
"Footprint, smart one," I say.  
  
She runs over to me. "You would now!," she yells. "You stepped on her! You're the only one with feet, like, big enough to match this footprint!" She's scowling and pouting at me. She's waiting for an apology. She's not going to get it this time. She thinks so. But she's not.  
  
It's my turn.  
  
"Like, you really think you're smart don't you? You think you can get away with breaking that vase by blaming it on poor Scooby? That you can get away with baking that cake and busting the oven? That you can get away with breaking Dad's favorite record?! No way! Like, not this time!" My mom's watching. I can sense it. That can't get in the way. I'd like her to hear. Someone has to.  
  
Sugie's jittery. She doesn't know what to do. So all she yells is, "Shut up! I hate you! You're so mean! You yell at me and you stepped on my doll on purpose!" Tears are forming in her eyes.  
  
"That's how much you know! I accidentally stepped on it, not purposely!"  
  
"You wish you did it on purpose!"  
  
I scream. Scream like I never had done before. Scream louder than I would if some guy in a mask were chasing me. It's a scream of fury.  
  
"I'm glad I did it on accidentally! You know why? 'Cause your a pain in my back every single day! You whine and complain so friggin' much that you make people think you're not being taken care of at home! You know what?! I'm tired of all this crud and complaining from you! I'm tired of your dolls and stupid shows! I hate how you dis me all the time: 'Shaggy has a messy room! Shaggy has big feet! Shaggy, do you know that skateboarding's stupid? Do you know that punk rock sucks? My friends at school said so!' Guess what, Sugie? It just so happens that your friends aren't some goddesses that decide what music's in or not. 9-year-olds don't lead my life! 'Cause if all you're friends listen to are pop and junk, then I feel sorry for you!"  
  
Her face is red and tears are flowing down her face.  
  
I don't care.  
  
I run up the stairs and down to my room. I hear her feet stomping up behind me.  
  
"Well, you know what, Norville? I hate you! I don't want you!"  
  
I turned around at my room as she came up to hers.  
  
"I hate you, too! And another thing!"  
  
She's glaring at me with her red face.  
  
"I THINK 'BUN-BUTT'S' A STUPID NAME!"  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"'BUN-BUTT' IS A STUPID NAME FOR YOUR STUPID BEAR!"  
  
"NO IT ISN'T!"  
  
"YES IT IS!"  
  
"WELL, 'SCOOBY-DOO' IS A STUPID NAME FOR A DOG!"  
  
"SHUT UP! A DOG HAS FEELINGS! YOUR STUPID STUFFED BEAR CAN'T EVEN TALK!"  
  
"UGH!" Sugie slams the door to her room violently. She screams, "I WISH YOU COULD JUST DISAPPEAR! GO AWAY FOREVER!"  
  
I slam my door and yell, "IF I COULD DISAPPEAR AND GO SOMEWHERE ELSE AWAY FROM YOU I'D BE HAPPY TO!"  
  
I take my pillow and throw it across the room as it knocks over a shelf of CD's. But I don't care. I hate my family. My parents never listen. My sister is a brat. My older sister just bullied me when I was younger. Our family's screwed up and I seem to be the only one who recognizes it. It's just too many people. I wonder how Dad survived with like 10 sisters and brothers.  
  
Something else has messed everything up.  
  
Mysteries.  
  
These stupid mysteries are a pain in the behind. You try to take a good vacation and it's always interrupted by some dumbhead in a mask or something. Like, we couldn't enjoy our short trip to Disneyland in May because some creep decided it was rightfully his. And Freddie's always making me and Scooby "creep" bait.  
  
Then again, he used to be my best friend. But I lost him to sports- obsessed guys. I mean, I'm in track in all, but these are like the baseball-basketball-football-obsessed guys.  
  
My life's falling apart and I can't take it anymore. My family, my friends. I can't take it. I fall into sweet slumber but it's bitter.  
  
Because I can't take it. 


	4. Robert Gails

ROBERT GAILS  
(velma's p.o.v.)  
  
I look through the bookshelves of the Coolsville Library. Or at least pretend to. It's one of the few times I just want to be at the library to escape from life, not to look for a good book to read or study. It usually works, passing my fingers across the books on the shelf. Muttering to myself as if I were looking for a specific book. But it's not working this time. I can see one of the pesky library attendants, Ms. Marson, eyeing me and ready to come towards me to ask if I need help. I grab a book off the shelf immediately and walk fast towards the table with my stuff on it. I'm reading, I'm reading, I'm reading----I'm yawning and I look up and Ol' Ms. Marson isn't there!  
  
"Perfect," I whisper. Victory is--  
  
"What's perfect?," I hear an old, croaky voice say.  
  
Perfect. Ms. Marson is standing behind me trying to get in my business. Got to make up something up quick.  
  
"The book," I lie. I quickly close the book to glance at the cover. I turn around and smile, "I finally found 'Obasan'! My friends have been telling me what a great book it is and I've been looking like crazy for it and finally I find it here!" I turn back around and smile weakly. I notice someone watching me. Robert Gails? They say he's new in town. He's looking at me and smiling a bit. He is kind of cute. And I hear he's pretty smart. Maybe he---  
  
"Yes, 'Obasan' is truly a wonderful novel," I hear the old creep say. "Like the 'Washington Post' said, 'This quiet novel burns in your hand!'" Honestly, if I felt in the mood to read the book, I'd give a darn to listen to her and read it and get interested. But right now, I don't want any book to burn in my hand.  
  
"Yeah, um, that's what my friends say," I fib again. "And now I'll find out for myself!" I try to sound unbelievably perky. Not that I want to.  
  
"Well, enjoy," Ms. Marson says, patting my head. What does she think I am? A dog? I turn around and see her walking to the stairs and walking to the 1st floor. One of the many proofs that God exists.  
  
I turn back around to see a black-haired, hazel-eyed teenaged boy sitting across from me, smiling.  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
Robert notices that I'm startled and says, "Wow. You actually ditched the ol' creep! It usually takes me an hour to take her off my back, but you did it in 5 minutes!"  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
"Um, yeah," I say. "When you practically live in the library, it gets easier everyday!" I laugh a little and smile back.  
  
His smile gets wider and he laughs a little, too. "Um, I just moved here from Sacramento. I'm a big bookworm and I heard you were, too."  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
"Well, yeah," I reply. "I read a lot of books." I look at "Obasan" and hold it up. "But you can bet millions my friends didn't recommend this to me. The only time they read books is in English class. And they consider flipping through magazines 'reading.'" I smile and put the book down.  
  
"Yeah, my friends aren't big booklovers, either," he says.  
  
Oh. My. Fine, I won't say it again.  
  
"I'm not in a big reading mood," I admit. "Sometimes I like to come to the library just to get away from everything---you know, life."  
  
"Yeah, I did that a lot in Sacramento," he says.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Hey, um, I was wondering," he says, interrupting the silence, "if you would like to hang out, um, you and me, at the mall sometime?" He bites his lip waiting for an answer.  
  
OH. MY. GOD.  
  
My whole body feels like the burning sun. Am I blushing?! What should I say?! So many times I practiced in my room what I would say to a guy who asked me out or "to hang out" and I have no answer, darn it!. Yes? No? Maybe? I'll think about it? We'll see? Ugh! He's waiting, isn't he? I need an answer. Fast. Maybe I should--  
  
"Yes," I decide. "Yeah, sure. Why not. Um, when and where?"  
  
His face brightens up so much I feel like I'm some popular girl who's decided to finally go out with a unpopular guy. "Wow, cool! Um, I-I was wondering, maybe tonight at---at the mall! Around 7:30 to 7:45? At the main entrance?"  
  
"Perfect," I agree. "Just to hang?"  
  
"Yeah, um, just to hang," he concurs. He gets up and looks at the clock hanging on the other side of the room. "It's 9: 37. I gotta go." He starts walking towards the stairs when he says, "Bye. Velma."  
  
"Bye, Robert."  
  
"Oh, it's Robby."  
  
"Oh, okay. Robby."  
  
He leaves.  
  
And I'm left there.  
  
"Okay, you're not gonna believe this!," is the first thing I say to Daphne on the phone.  
  
"Believe what?," she asks.  
  
"You know that kid everyone's been talking about that's supposed to be smart and stuff and he just moved here from Sacramento?," I say hurriedly.  
  
"Um, yeah, I think," Daphne answers. "Robert Gails?"  
  
"Yeah! Him! And, well, he was there at the library today as, of course, I was and he came over and talked to me and stuff!" I'm starting to sound like Daphne.  
  
"Really?! Is he cute?" Daphne's getting excited now.  
  
"If I'm talking about him like this all wound up and stuff, do you think he's ugly?!" It's all a mumble jumble of words and enthusiasm.  
  
I hear a smile and giggles. "Ha! I guess not! So what else?"  
  
"Well, he, well, omigosh, Daphne! You wouldn't believe it though it's not really asking me out or anything but since he's kinda cute and smart and stuff, at least that's what they say, and what he says, but it doesn't matter-------Daphne, he asked if I could hang out with him at the mall!"  
  
Squeals and giggles.  
  
I've never had this feeling before. Of total thrill and utter glee. It's totally new. It's one of life's natural highs. I've never met a boy like Robert--I mean Robby before. I feel my language changing, too. Kind of valley-like. Almost the way Daphne and Shaggy talk. It's scary how a person's feelings and talk can change like that in a matter of seconds. And I don't have time to scientifically find out why.  
  
"What time?," Daphne asks after the excitement passes.  
  
"He said around 7:30 to 7:45."  
  
"That's enough time to get you some new clothes!"  
  
"Clothes?" A record with beautiful music screeches to a halt. "What's wrong with the ones I have?"  
  
"Well . . ." I hear hesitancy on the other line.  
  
"Forget it. I know," I say. "It's always a sweater and a skirt, a sweater and a skirt, a sweater and a---"  
  
"Well, it's true!"  
  
"Listen, Daph. If Robby really likes me, he'll like me for my sweater and my skirt."  
  
"Robby?"  
  
"He told me to call him that."  
  
"Oh. Well, this is an everyday scenario. It's like, well,---"  
  
"A date? He said it was to hang out! That's all, Daphne! Hang out." I express the emphasis on the words.  
  
"C'mon, Vel, PWEASE! I was gonna go shopping for my self today, too!" There was a pause. "Personally, my dress is getting a lil' old." I laugh at what's true.  
  
"Fine. A little fashion makeover. Nothing else. And if you even dare try to convince me to change my glasses or get contacts----I'm out." She knows how finicky I am about getting my glasses changed.  
  
A big but friendly sigh comes from the other line. "Fine; it's a deal. I'll pick you up in five."  
  
I'm about to tell her not to come pick me up in a limo when I hear a click and the sound that someone is not there. All I can do is hope . . .  
  
*AUTHOR'S COMMENTS* okay. If you hate it, don't review and stop reading. Don't worry you Shaggy/Velma fans, I'm am totally one too and I'm kinda spoiling it for ya when I say it ain't ("it" referring 2 Robert/Velma) gonna work out. I know some things may have come out corny and not right but PWEESE, if you like then review and if you don't, don't. I'll know whether to keep on going or not on how many people review, 'kay? And at first at the beginning of the first few chapters which are these and others that MAY come on the way (if I get good reviews!) it may not seem as if anything's gonna show up between Freddie and Daph, but DO NOT WORRY. . . . . it will . . .  
  
There'll be a lot more stuff in the next 4 chapters and a lot more humor, too. I know I'm kinda messing around with the characters a bit, 'specially Shag (being like all angry and stuff). Actually, most of the humor that's coming in the next four chapters is really a lot w/Freddie cuz Freddie's usually the serious one (actually, in the animated movies and WNSD? he's becoming A LOT less serious and I love that! ^-^). But anyways, Freddie is gonna be hilarious (I hope you think so. You may think what I think is humor is sad . . .) So I'll just wait. REVIEW AND NOOOOOO FLAMES!!!!!  
Myst_X 


	5. Off To The Mall

Disclaimer: I do not (though I'm gonna find a way to) own any of the Scooby- Doo characters, preferably Mystery, Inc. They are the property of Warner Bros. and Hanna-Barbera. I am writing this story without permission and its not for a profit.  
  
A/N: You like it! You really like it! lol, gracias for the reviews! So I will keep going!  
  
Okay, like I said before, Freddie is gonna be a little more funny. Like funny in the sense that he acts like a teenager acts at least once in his/her life. I definitely don't wanna bash him or ANY of the characters of Scooby-Doo! To spoil it for ya just a little, he just wakes up in a funny/cranky mood. There. Now, Shaggy starts out in a good mood in his chapter and then gets in a mad mood again . . . (sry!) I'll explain to you at my A/N at the end of the four chapters. So read and review and please no flames!  
  
OFF TO THE MALL  
(freddie's p.o.v.)  
  
The doorbell rings at the greatest time: when I'm in the middle of frying my pancakes. I flip the pancake to the other side and trudge to the door. Just before the door, I look into the mirror that is neatly hung on a nail. My hair's a mess, my eyes haven't adjusted to the light of day, and my PJ's aren't neatly buttoned.  
  
Screw it.  
  
I open the door and with my eyes closed as the brightness of the morning sun blinds me. "Whaddya want?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm looking for Freddie Jones? Does he live here?"  
  
Familiar voice.  
  
Girl voice.  
  
"Come in before my pancakes burn," is all I say and I trudge back to the kitchen.  
  
The door closes and I hear her say, "Is that how you answer people who come to your house? 'Whaddya want' and 'come in before my pancakes burn?'"  
  
"You're the one asking if Freddie Jones lives here at this early time of day," I answer, examining my pancake for any sign that it burned. I find a black scab on the edge of my beloved flapjack. "Crud, it burned," I mutter.  
  
"Early?!," Daphne exclaims from my earlier comment.  
  
"Ya."  
  
"When did you wake up?," she asks.  
  
And the questioning and scolding begins. Why is it that your female friends are always like this? Velma is the same way, too.  
  
I sit down with my pancakes and start pouring the thick and sweet syrup all over them. I shrug. "15 minutes ago?"  
  
Daphne puts her hand up to her mouth and with one finger on her lips she says, her speech muffled, "15 minutes ago was 10:32, Freddie."  
  
I swallow a piece of my pancake and say, "It's early for being summer." I continue eating my breakfast.  
  
A sigh of defeat and irritation comes from her and she waves her hands in the air. "Never mind. Listen, this new guy asked Velma if she and him could hang out at the mall tonight and she said yes. Her and I are going shopping for clothes before her--" She stopped briefly. "--'hang out?'"  
  
"Hang out?"  
  
"Well, what other word are you supposed to say instead of 'date?' Anyways, I was wondering if you guys wanted to come. So?"  
  
"So?"  
  
"So . . ."  
  
"So, who's 'you guys?'"  
  
"You, Shaggy, and Scooby!"  
  
"You asked them yet?"  
  
"I called them."  
  
"They said . . . yes?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You called them! Why couldn't you have called me?!," I demand as I soak a piece of my pancake in a pool of syrup.  
  
"Because . . . I don't know! Just tell me 'yes' or 'no'!," is the inevitable answer from Daphne.  
  
"Fine, I'll get dressed," I decide as I keep moving the piece of my pancake around in the syrup.  
  
The room is quiet.  
  
I soak my pancake sulkily.  
  
And Daphne hates the silence. "Well! Don't just sit there! Get up and dress!"  
  
"OK, OK, I'll get dressed," I say as I eat the piece and dump my dish in the sink. "Now remember never to visit me when I look like this." I run up the stairs and Daphne sighs once again.  
  
***************************************************  
  
"I thought we were shopping," I say as we come to the perfume section of Sears.  
  
"We are," Daphne answers as she looks intently at a bottle of perfume.  
  
"You didn't let me finish. I thought we were shopping for clothes."  
  
"We are," Daphne replies again as she sprays the perfume on her hands and sniffs at it eagerly. "Ooh, this is nice!"  
  
Velma comes up to Daphne and says, "Like Freddie said, I really thought we were shopping for clothes, not perfume."  
  
"Well, since we were gonna pass this section on our way to the clothes . . ." She's already sniffing a 3rd perfume spray on the palm of her right hand.  
  
"Um, like, we already passed the Juniors clothes," Shaggy points out.  
  
"Mm-hm," is all that comes from Daphne as she sprays for the 4th time.  
  
"Well, then," Velma says. "I'll be checking on the clothes while you check . . . the perfume." She quickly comes up to us and whispers, "If I were you, I'd get away, too. She starts using other people to test out the perfumes." She slightly turns around and adds, "Believe me."  
  
Shaggy, Scooby, and I are standing there like. Velma just left us alone. With Daphne. And perfume.  
  
Shaggy takes a deep breath and says loudly, "Well, I'll, like, be in the entertainment center with Scoob here looking for . . . entertainment." He motions his head to the direction he's going, indicating that I should go with him.  
  
And I'm about to. I'm about to say, "Yeah, I'll be in the entertainment center, too," when the predator finds his prey. And Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma aren't anywhere to help me.  
  
"Hey, Freddie, lemme see your hand," is what she says as she sprays some perfume on my hand.  
  
"Ugh! Daph! You got perfume on my hand!," is all I can say.  
  
She grabs hold of my hand and sniffs it. "Omigosh! Ugh! You're gonna hafta wash that one off."  
  
She leaves to find more perfumes.  
  
I sniff my hand.  
  
And it reeks.  
  
It reeks of rotten bananas with cereal served in rotten milk with a couple of rotten eggs.  
  
I hate my life.  
  
But if I started finding out why it'd take me forever so I go to the nearby counter where the cash register is and start doing what I can.  
  
Rubbing the smell off of my hand and onto the counter.  
  
There's no one around to ask me what I'm doing so I just keep on doing it. I smell my hand to see if the stench has gone but it hasn't so I rub more vehemently.  
  
I just rub.  
  
And rub.  
  
And rub.  
  
Till I can't take it anymore and I start hitting my hand against the counter, riled.  
  
I'm telling the odor to "die" when I hear someone clearing her throat.  
  
I stop slamming my hand and look up to see an elderly woman peering through her glasses at me from behind the counter. She's a Sears employee. God help.  
  
"There's this fly I've been trying to get," I lie smoothly. "And I finally get it, you know, I hit it. And it still won't die. And I think it's finally dead!" I look down and pretend to brush off what's not there. "Well, will you look at that! It's finally dead! Well, I'll be going!" I start to leave and add, "And I love Sears!"  
  
I don't know what the woman thought or if I got away slickly but as long as I'm as far away of this part of the store as I can be, I'll be okay.  
  
My hand still smells of rotten junk when I see Velma frantically flipping through racks. "So, how you doing?"  
  
"Not fine!," she grunts as she regards another piece of clothing unfit for her by throwing it back at me.  
  
I catch it and say, "You know, you're making a big mess. You want me to clean up?"  
  
"No. That's why Sears hires other people to do it," she says moodily.  
  
"Oh, sorry," I apologize and drop the shirt on the floor. "So, who's this guy your going out with?"  
  
"It's not a date," she sighs. "It's--it's--"  
  
"A 'hang out'?"  
  
"Yeah," she says, tossing another piece of clothing. "And the guy is Robert Gails."  
  
"Robert Gails? I heard that guy's--"  
  
"Intelligent and a bookworm?!," she exclaims dreamily while grasping a peasant shirt.  
  
Intelligent and a bookworm? I say the complete opposite: "A failure and a jerk."  
  
Velma looks at me, bemused, as she lets the peasant shirt fall to the ground. "A failure and a jerk?! Freddie, I conversed with him and he indubitably did not appear to be a jerk. You must have been informed with irrelevant information by an individual who abhors and is envious of him!"  
  
Okay. She just talked in a whole different language. And when she does this, she's mad. Or has been reading some weird novel.  
  
"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't know!," I apologize again. "Rumors spread and change. I may be wrong and I may be right. Just watch out for yourself tonight, 'kay. You're my friend and I don't want you to end up hurt."  
  
Velma smiles thinly and says, "All right. Thanks."  
  
I'm glad she understands and decide to help her out. "Now, let's see." I pick out a random shirt or what seems to be a shirt. Frankly, it looks more like a bikini top. Almost like a bikini top. We both look at it wide- eyed and I suggest, putting the top back, "Let's save that for after your married." 


	6. Fight

FIGHT  
(daphne's P.O.V.)  
  
Okay, so I'm not helping Velma find an outfit. It's been lingering in my mind for the past half hour and now it's bothering me. So I decide to leave the jewelry and go to the clothes section.  
  
I walk throughout all the racks of clothing and I can't find a single sign of Velma when she comes out of the fitting rooms. In her arms are some clothes: an orange vest, a white blouse, and a pair of red pants. I walk quickly to her and apologize. "I'm sorry for being away for so long but everytime I enter these stores I get so wrapped up in different things and-- --is that an outfit I see in your arms?" I smile brightly.  
  
Velma twists her mouth with a raised eyebrow but laughs. "Yeah, I kind of liked this. It's different, yet not outrageous. I do like it."  
  
"Omigosh! That's great!," I congratulate her. The outfit isn't that bad at all. At least it's not an orange sweater and a red skirt.  
  
"And if your thinking," she says, "that at least this isn't an orange sweater and a red skirt I would suggest you get something different besides a purple and lavender striped dress."  
  
For a moment I think I'm mad at her. But who could stay mad with Velma? Besides, ---"You have a point," I consent. "So, in that case, if you get a few more outfits, I'll get a couple of new outfits of my own! And the cost does not matter," I declare. "The clothes are all on me!"  
  
"Wow. You're parents sure give you a lot of money!" she exclaims.  
  
My heart sinks a little for the parents that barely care. But I don't let it get in the way. "Well, people say money isn't everything, but--" I hold up a credit card from my wallet and grin. "--that's what credit cards are for!"  
  
Velma smiles and shakes her head. She starts looking through the racks.  
  
My smile ceases and I let out a deep sigh. There's nothing I can do to change my parents. Our communication is very limited, I guess. They give me a credit card, I behave and keep safe; that's our communication. I keep looking straight and fight these tears that are building up in my eyes. I've got to keep happy, they give me a lot and give me a home. I can't be upset. But as I pull up a screened tee, I spot a mother and daughter talking and laughing, walking out of the store. Having fun.  
  
Fight.  
  
Be strong.  
  
Don't let those tears control you.  
  
But what's the use of trying to control the tears when they're already flowing down your face.  
  
There is none.  
  
"Hey, Daph, you okay?"  
  
I quickly turn around and wipe my face with the shirt. "Oh, no, Velma. I- I'm all right. My eyes are just tearing." She nods her head in understanding and turns back around. I disgustedly drop the damp shirt back on the shelf and keep looking for more clothes to fight back my tears. 


	7. Beautiful

BEAUTIFUL  
(shaggy's p.o.v.)  
  
Simple Plan. Good Charlotte. Linkin Park.  
  
Creed. 3-Doors-Down. All-American Rejects.  
  
Sum41. Blink182.  
  
Ha. I could go on.  
  
Rock's a beautiful symphony orchestra to my ears.  
  
Sweet hallelujah.  
  
It's fun when you sneak into a music store and just keep listening to music for ever and ever and ever.  
  
I'm listening to "She Is Beautiful" by Andrew W.K. Great song. Bopping my head up and down, not really looking up.  
  
But when I do decide to look up I my eyes meet with another's hazel eyes. She's smiling and waving at me. She's wearing a sleeve-less orange shirt and jean overalls.  
  
. . . . you're everything I got, you beautiful girl.  
You're the only thing I live for in the whole wide world.  
She is beautiful.  
She is beautiful.  
She is beautiful.  
She is beautiful.  
Girl is beautiful.  
  
My heart is melting within me. Chills run up and down my spine.  
  
She is beautiful.  
  
"C'mon Shag," Velma beckons.  
  
She looks good.  
And its true.  
Girl is beautiful.  
  
It's not the clothes that make me feel sunken. She's got a natural beauty.  
  
She is beautiful.  
  
"Shaggy!"  
  
The song ends. I try to speak but--I can't.  
  
"Raggy!!!," Scooby yells in my ear. I quickly take my headphones off.  
  
"Man, Scoob! You don't hafta, like, yell!," I say. Scooby just glares at me.  
  
I walk out of the store and meet the gang. I open my mouth and take a while to say, "Like, Velms, you're wearing that tonight?"  
  
Velma laughs. "No, silly! This is just to feel comfortable now. I'm wearing something else tonight."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Freddie comes and puts his arm around me, bringing his hand to my face. He says: "You know, there are a lot of things that you never wanna experience."  
  
"What the heck is that supposed to mea--" A putrid smell creeps up my nose and suffocates me. I push him away and say: "Holy crap! Wash your hands after doing number 2!"  
  
He laughs like I've never seen him laugh since 8th grade. He falls into a bench holding his stomach and bending down laughing. Then he abruptly stops and points sternly at Daphne who leans against a potted tree. She smiles and rolls her eyes.  
  
I look from one to the other and frankly say, "Okay, like, honestly: I don't wanna know."  
  
Daphne starts laughing and walks away with Velma behind her. Freddie gets up and follows them with a glare on his face. "Get back here! You evil girl!"  
  
I grin and shake my head, looking at Scooby. "Beautiful, huh, Scoob?"  
  
Scooby laughs and walks ahead of me.  
  
But before I follow, I whisper with Velma in mind, "Beautiful."  
  
*********************************************************  
  
It's been a few hours since I smelled Freddie's hand unintentionally. He sniffs it now and then to see if the awful smell still remains around his hand.  
  
It's 7:00 PM and us boys wait outside the girl's bathroom while Velma dresses. I can see the sun set in an orangey-pink sky through the see- through ceiling. I think if Velma would ever like me more than a friend. This Robert dude must be pretty awesome for her to fall all ga-ga for. But just as I think this, Freddie starts telling me different:  
  
"I'm afraid about this Robert guy."  
  
I turn around, confused.  
  
"Like, this may be one of the few times that you're actually afraid of something or someone. Why?"  
  
"Some of the guys--" He pauses. For some reason he stops. Then he says: "Someone told me that he's a liar and a jerk."  
  
I know who told him that. Probably one of his sports-obsessed friends. But somehow, if I'm not mistaken, he didn't want to say it. Maybe he feels our friendship needs work?  
  
"Like, does that person know for sure?," I ask. "Where'd he hear this?"  
  
"I don't know. It might be true and it might not. But I'm a lil' concerned for a friend. Aren't you?"  
  
I just stare up through the ceiling watching the sun set. "Yeah. I am."  
  
Velma comes out with red slacks, an orange vest and underneath a white blouse. She looks awesome. I feel like stealing her away from this so- called Robert Gails. But I can't. She likes him and I can't get in the way. I'm trying to restrain my heart from taking over me. I'm in a trance with the greatest girl in the world. Smart, fun, understanding, kind. Those hazel eyes. Hazel eyes.  
  
There's a crash that interrupts everything. Then a sinister laugh. No. Not now.  
  
"Help! A ghost! A phantom!"  
  
Not now.  
  
"Roh-oh," Scooby whimpers and hides behind me.  
  
"Oh, no," Velma says.  
  
"C'mon guys," Freddie says. Daphne, Velma, and Scooby follow him quickly.  
  
I stay where I am. My heart hardens and anger rages in me. Not now. Not ever.  
  
Not ever again.  
  
I walk in a heated gait, coming up to the center of the mall, where the marble water fountain is, to see a "ghost" floating above it. It gives off a white, radiant light. It's fake. It's all bogus.  
  
"Okay, gang," Freddie starts. "This is what we do. First--"  
  
I walk past him and hear him call after me, asking what I'm doing. I'll show him what I'm doing. I'll show everyone. I climb up on top of the water fountain, slowly and boldly, until I come to see up close the supposed ghost. I glare at him and he stares back. I spot a wire in a milli-second but before I do anything I ask, "So, like, what's your story?"  
  
"What do you mean?," the ghost shrills, his arm brandishing me. "I am the Ghost of the Coolsville Mall!"  
  
"I was hoping it was, like, less corny but I guess not." I grab his arm and bring him face-to-face with me. "Too bad you weren't seeing this come." I take a pocket knife out that I usually use to cut my subs in half. I slice the wires and push him off. He falls and plunges into the fountain pool. Too bad he didn't hit the floor. I wanted to see him hit hard. I look down with a fierce look on my face at the crowd. Freddie, Daphne and Scooby look at me, taken aback. Then I turn my head to Velma. She can't believe I've done this. My heart melts again. I feel like I want to throw up. I'm confused. Everything's too complicated. I can't think of her anymore. She has someone else. I force my heart to become firm again. I came up furious, I'll go down the same way.  
  
I climb back down and Scooby runs to me.  
  
"Raggy!," he calls as I turn to the side. "Raggy! Are rou rokay?"  
  
"I'm fine!," I cry. "I'm great! Just-just---leave me alone." I walk away. I can still hear him whimpering. If he wants to follow me, then he can. If he doesn't then he doesn't have to.  
  
I bump into a black-haired guy accidentally and mutter a quick, "Sorry." I head to the door and gaze back and see the gang watch me as I push the door and leave. 


	8. Tricked

TRICKED  
(velma's p.o.v.)  
  
I stare blankly as a crowd gathers around the false phantom. I cross my arms, as if it would comfort me and explain to me even the most convoluted tribulations in the world. Life cannot be explained by theories and textbooks. Life isn't science. Life is God. So I pray, quietly for God to enlighten me, tell me, slowly elucidate what has just happened. A friend has disappeared in a blink of an eye. And he's been looking at me so awkwardly. Is he looking for answers, too?  
  
I hear my name. Once. Twice. Then I look up and see Robert Gails. I blush and explain: "Sorry. I-I just experienced the most bizarre moment."  
  
"It's all right. I kind of caught a little of what happened. Do you know that guy?"  
  
"Well, it's--it's hard to explain."  
  
"Oh, okay. So you wanna get something to eat?"  
  
"Sure." I turn to the Freddie and Daphne. They're looking down, still stunned. I wave and say, "Bye guys."  
  
They look up and smile softly, weakly waving at me. They turn around and walk away. I turn back to Robby. "So, um, let's get something to eat."  
  
We go to the food court and get a couple of slices of pizza. We talk about each other, our hobbies and other things. We then start talking about school.  
  
"Hey, you usually get all honors classes, right?"  
  
"Yeah," I answer modestly.  
  
"It'd be so cool to get a class with you. I mean I really think you're becoming to be my role model."  
  
"Well, thanks, I-I don't think I'm that great," I sincerely say.  
  
"No, really," he continues. "Your smart and kind. I was wondering if we could see each other more often."  
  
"Oh, well," I think. "Maybe. I'll see." I smile and so does he.  
  
"Okay, so I was also thinking: let's say we don't have a class together. If we don't, that'll be okay." I try to figure out at what he's getting at. "Let's just say we both have the same teacher. If we have the same teacher and you have your class earlier than mine, then you can write down the answers to the test and give them to me afterward."  
  
"You want me to cheat?"  
  
"Well, basically. Or if we are in the same class we can both have cellphones and text message the answers to each other."  
  
I try to be patient at first. "I don't think we'd get away with something like that."  
  
"Of course we will," he says with such confidence. "I got away with it at my old school."  
  
"You've done this before?," I ask. My patience is slipping. Freddie can't be right!  
  
"Yeah! It's funny cuz the teachers are clueless! They're so stupid. And I hafta tell you about the time I actually found the answers to a final!"  
  
Answers to a final! "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't do that," I say straightforward.  
  
"Don't be afraid," he says. Don't be afraid?  
  
"I am not frightened," I say intrepidly.  
  
"Then do it. C'mon. It's not gonna hurt anybody."  
  
"And if we're discovered?"  
  
"They are not gonna catch us," he says in assurance. He smiles at me. But I don't find it amusing anymore. His smirk seems stupid. "So you'll do it?"  
  
"And if I refuse?"  
  
He looks at me and sneers as if that were his answer.  
  
Freddie was right.  
  
Tears form and run down my face in defeat. "Well, I'm sorry, Robert, but I think I'll have to turn down your offer." I pick up my garbage and dump it at the nearest can. I hear him following me.  
  
"But, Velms--"  
  
I turn sharply around and with clenched teeth. "No, nobody calls me Velms except my friends, and you are no friend!" His hand reaches for my face. I feel like biting it but instead I push him into a post and run away into a bathroom.  
  
Inside a stall, I think and pray. What should I do? What if I go out and he's there? I let the tears run down my face. It's my only comfort. Is God with me? Why was Freddie right? Why? I cry inside and try to find an answer.  
  
I decide to call Daphne to give me a ride. I walk out of the bathroom cautiously. There and slip in two quarters into the public phone and dial Daphne's number. I hear the phone being picked up. "Hello?"  
  
"Um, hi, Daphne," I barely whisper.  
  
"Velma, is that you?"  
  
"Um, yeah. Do you think you could pick me up?"  
  
"Uh, sure. Why?"  
  
"I'll explain later."  
  
I say my last goodbye and hang up the phone miserably.  
  
Daphne comes about fifteen minutes later in her limo. I walk out quickly in case that that jerk comes after me. I sit down next to Daphne and start sobbing. Daphne puts a friendly arm around me and comforts me. "All right. It's all right Velma. It's all right."  
  
"Freddie was right," I weep. "Freddie was so right."  
  
A/N: SO? SO? SO? . . . lol, I hoped you liked it. Okay, reason for why I'm making Shaggy like this: I always wondered how Shaggy could take always being the bait and going through all these fake monsters. I would be mad but maybe I shouldn't of made him that way. Don't worry, he won't be like this for all of the story. You can't have a story without a JOKING SHAGGY! I'm sorry if you liked Robert but I kinda had already planned that he wasn't gonna be that great. Let's see. . . . oh, I hope you liked Freddie's humor and that incident with the perfume, lol. Well, the next four might take a little while cause I'm thinking of how I'm gonna make the "adventure." Review and no flames!  
Myst-X 


	9. Just About Anything

JUST ABOUT ANYTHING  
(freddie's p.o.v.)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not (though I'm figuring out a plan to) own any of the Scooby-Doo characters, preferably Mystery, Inc. They are the property of Warner Bros. and Hanna-Barbera. I am writing this story without permission and its not for a profit.  
  
A/N: Sorry I broke the "four chapter" thing by putting up only two but it might take me a while (or not, I'm not sure) to put up the other two. My PC's was being fixed and didn't come until, like, 3 weeks later. So sry if you've been waiting and read on!  
  
There are things in life that can't be explained. Many confusing matters.  
  
But I honestly want to now why right now I'm chasing a blue-footed booby bird in a purple high school while the rest of my school follows me.  
  
Oooo-kay.  
  
At least the dream is better than what comes next.  
  
A Michael Jackson song.  
  
And it's not even the dream, it's my alarm clock radio.  
  
Holy crap, I'd chase blue-footed booby birds in a purple high school any day than have to listen to Michael Jackson.  
  
I grab the alarm clock radio and chuck it at the door. It's funny, because I hear someone yelp, swear, then yell, "Freddie!"  
  
Oops. Almost hit Mom.  
  
I mumble incoherently, not caring much and trying to keep myself from laughing.  
  
"Fred Jones, I know that you are awake because knowing you for almost seventeen years and a half you do not sleep talk."  
  
"Mumble."  
  
"Oh, shut up!" I can hear her throw the alarm clock radio. Peeking through the covers, I see the radio crash against the window and send the shades flying down.  
  
"You wished that was me, didn't you?," I yell and push the covers out of the way. I sit up on my bed waiting for something. Just about anything. I say, "I'm ready." I'm just waiting for the day and for whatever it brings. Even if it is blue-footed booby birds and purple high schools. Yep, yep. Just killing time. Just about anything.  
  
I hear a banging coming from downstairs. It stops and then I hear it again. I get up and walk to the door, waiting to see if the pounding will continue. It starts again, more anxiously, even desperately. Dad says, "I'm coming, I'm coming." As I hear the creak of the door, I quickly come up to the top of the stairs. I hear stomping, then, "Where's Freddie?! Like, I gotta see 'im! Just tell me where he his! Fast!"  
  
"Shaggy are you all right?," Dad asks concerned.  
  
"Like, I'm fine! I just need to see Freddie!"  
  
I hear treading and for a moment I'm standing here listening, wanting to know what's next. Then Shaggy comes to the stairs, in PJ's, and yells, "Well, ya moron! If you were standing there the whole time then why the hell--I mean--the heck didn't you come down?!?" It takes me five seconds to relate this to last night and kind of take in how Shaggy kind of . . . cursed? If one of us were to curse the most would be Daphne who once in a while gets away with "damn", "hell", and "b***h" when she's really mad. Then the rest of us really don't curse.  
  
Well, okay so I yelled b@$*@** at someone once because he cut me off but that's besides the point because Shaggy never curses. Yeah, it's kind of something I have to tell the rest of the gang later on. "I'm-I'm coming!" I walk briskly down the stairs and grab him, looking at him straight in the eyes. "Okay, what's the matter?"  
  
His tenseness creeps through my fingertips up through my spine. He breathes heavily, mouths "what" a couple of times, as though processing through his head and finding an answer for the question I just asked him. In his eyes I see searching, rummaging through his muddled mind. And then his engines stop and he grabs me.  
  
"Just run after me and don't stop," he replies, his teeth clenched, not because he's angry but apprehensive, afraid.  
  
He shoots out the door and I follow. Ha, this would be a beautiful sight at nine in the morning. I can imagine myself looking out my window and watching some guy in blue PJ's running after another in green PJ's.  
  
We come to his house and just as I'm about to run to the front door he jumps the fence and disappears behind the house. I stop short in front of the door and skip the fence or at least I try to. I trip over fall and start to get up when Shaggy screams, "Freddie!"  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" And when I do Shaggy is on the floor in some weird cross-legged way staring right into Scooby's doghouse. But Scooby's not there.  
  
A little uneasy myself I ask, "Um, Shag, where's Scoob?"  
  
He looks at me like I'm some alien from outerspace. His face reads, "In what planet and time were you born, idiot?" But instead he says hoarsely, "He's not here." He turns to the doghouse and continues: "Last night he followed me home and I locked myself in my room without saying goodnight. I woke up this morning and go to the backyard and I can't find him. He's gone. I looked everywhere, my family says he didn't see him. I feel so friggin' guilty." Tears fill his eyes. "I was in such a bad mood last night--I feel so guilty." He puts his head between his legs and sobs, repeating how guilty he is.  
  
The thought of Scooby leaving forever is kind of creepy. Almost frightening. I shudder, but the thought of Scooby leaving still sounds a little weird. "Are you sure?," I hesitantly ask.  
  
Again the look. "Dude, my dog doesn't, like, leave without leaving a note or something or without telling me. Hey man, this is Scooby. Scooby-Doo. That-that dumb great dane that-" He starts choking on his words. "-that was my best friend." He starts to cry again and angrily kicks the doghouse. It looks as if it almost is going to fall down but it doesn't. Instead, a note somehow slowly flutters out from the doghouse and in front of Shaggy.  
  
I quickly sit down next to Shaggy as the he opens the note. He quickly looks through it, his eyes zipping from left to right. Finally, he sighs and hands the paper to me. I look at it and it looks like pure hogwash. It looks like it's written in some other language and in some weird calligraphy writing. It has letters from the alphabet but like all weird and mixed up. It reads:  
  
Esuaceb I terf, esuaceb I erac  
Esuaceb I wonk taht I nac erad  
Od gnihtyna rof esoht I evol  
Ym traeh si eerf ekil a eerferac evod  
Taht hguorht siht yenruoj I lliw dneherpmoc  
Dna lliw deeccus. Dna ni eht dne  
Lla lliw eb doog  
Dna teews dna Dog  
lliw eb htiw em hguorht lla eht semit  
Dna htiw siht I dne siht emyhr  
  
Then it is signed in some scribbles I can't make out.  
  
I look at Shaggy. "You know, not everything here is that weird. I've spotted words like 'DNA' and 'dog'. And plus, 'I' shows up frequently and even 'a' appears once." Shaggy looks down at the ground. I put my hand on his shoulder and say, "Hey, you wanna try Velma. Maybe she can decipher this. She knows more languages than we do. And the only language we pretty much know is English. . ."  
  
"And demented Spanish," he adds. We both laugh. It's kind of creepy because we haven't laughed together like this in a while. But he nods his head. "Yeah, let's go to Velma's." And he heads out of the backyard and I start to follow. And I think back when I was ready to accept "just about anything" to happen.  
  
This isn't what I wanted. 


	10. The Note

THE NOTE  
(daphne's p.o.v.)  
  
Light shines into my room and I tiredly look up. I look to the other side of the room and see Velma sound asleep in the bed. Last night must have been so hard on her. To find out a guy only wanted her to cheat? That's really stressing. I let her call her parents to see if she could sleep over at my house and she was allowed. So now she seems relaxed though I know she must still be totally hassled.  
  
I move my covers aside and walk out to the veranda and stare into the woods. A warm breeze picks up and blows my hair to the side. I feel like sitting cross-legged and meditating. Just meditate.  
  
Then I hear some noise. I little growling. Then barking. Then screaming.  
  
That burglar system works pretty well.  
  
I hear them climbing up the veranda. Well, this Juliet isn't going to be easy. Slowly, I take a good grip on the railing with one hand, and when I feel the thief is just a little closer. . . .  
  
That guy's face is hard.  
  
My hand hits across the face; I don't even catch a glimpse of it. I look over the railing, knowing I had done well.  
  
At least I thought I knew.  
  
Surprises are very annoying things. Because I can't believe I'm staring at Freddie and Shaggy's bodies flat on the ground. Woopsy.  
  
"Freddie? Shaggy? What the heck are you doing coming in through the back?!," I dare to ask.  
  
Freddie strives to sit up and when he does he spits something into his hand and stares at it curiously. Eew. And Shaggy's still lying there, his head facing the ground and his arms and legs spread out. Ow.  
  
"Guys!"  
  
Freddie looks up and says, "They wouldn't let us in through the front so we kinda tried the back!"  
  
"Then I'll open up for you, 'kay?," I say. "Come up to the front!" I begin to leave and turn back too see Shaggy still in the same position as he has been for the last five minutes. I flinch and say more to myself than to them, "If you can."  
  
I run downstairs and let them in. When we're all upstairs, I look disgustedly at Freddie staring at his hand. I don't want to know. And then, I do. "So, ah, whatcha lookin' at there?"  
  
"Oh, ah, just the bit of tooth you knocked off of each of my two front teeth."  
  
"What?!"  
  
He smiles weakly at me and I see his two front teeth chipped off towards the inside of the them. "I-I'm so sorry!" I start to laugh. First the perfume, now this. He recognizes it, too.  
  
"Aha, ha, ha, ha," he laughs sarcastically. "I know what your evil mind is thinking. You evil, malicious woman. I'll get back at you somehow, you lady of darkness!" He raises a menacing fist at me but can't do it without grinning. I smile warmly back at him. And as my smile warms up, so does my heart somehow, though I don't know why.  
  
I've forgotten about Velma and she now yawns and gets up from under her covers. When she suddenly sees Shaggy and Freddie she yelps and gets back in bed. "What are you guys doing here?!"  
  
"Looking for you," Shaggy replies.  
  
"You guys . . ." Velma looks at them quizically. I know what she's thinking. She thinks they know about last night. But I'm not so sure.  
  
"What are you guys doing here at this early time of day?"  
  
"Early?!," Freddie squeals, mimicking me from yesterday. I glare playfully at him and my heart heats up a little more.  
  
"Okay, here's what happened," Shaggy starts. He explains about his bad mood last night and how this morning he couldn't find Scooby. Then he says how he ran to Freddie's house and got him and how he explained how Scooby was missing. Then he says how they found the note and how it was written in some weirdo language. Freddie suddenly interrupts and tells us how Shaggy said "hell." Shaggy glares at him then says how they called Velma's house but she wasn't there and her parents told them that she was sleeping over my house and they ran to my house but nobody answered. Then they jumped over the fence and got chased by the Doberman pinchers and then how they were climbing up my veranda when I punched Freddie and--  
  
"Okay, stop," I say. Then I suggest, "Don't you think this could be someone's idea of a joke?"  
  
Both Freddie and Shaggy bring their hands to their chins and stroke them gently. Then they look at each other and say, "Red Herring!"  
  
They start to run out when I grab them both by their PJ's. "Are you guys crazy?!," I ask though I've sadly known the answer for years. "Show us the note."  
  
They give us the note. It's written in some sort of weird scrambled English.  
  
Shaggy leans over. "So, Vel, like, what is it? I know it's not Spanish or French."  
  
Velma studies the note. "It's not. But it seems very familiar. Maybe if we all read it aloud, it'll make sense. It could be very simple but we just have to use a little common sense."  
  
The rest of us nod and crowd around Velma to read the note:  
  
"Esuaceb I terf, esuaceb I erac  
Esuaceb I wonk taht I nac erad  
Od gnihtyna rof esoht I evol  
Ym traeh si eerf ekil a eerferac evod  
Taht hguorht siht yenruoj I lliw dneherpmoc  
Dna lliw deeccus. Dna ni eht dne  
Lla lliw eb doog  
Dna teews dna Dog  
lliw eb htiw em hguorht lla eht semit  
Dna htiw siht I dne siht emyhr."  
  
The room starts to spin, fast, and I lose sight of the others. The room spins faster and faster until I am blinded. In front of me is a big empty nothing. And then I lose all my senses.  
  
A/N: Hee-hee! Freddie/Daphne started! If your wondering what the note means, you'll hafta find out like the gang! I hope you really like these chapters and more coming soon! (I hope!) And Shaggy started to joke in these chapters FINALLY! lol, please review and NO FLAMES! 


	11. Getting Started

GETTING STARTED  
(shaggy's p.o.v.)  
  
"A Gameboy! I gotta Gameboy!" A scrawny, dirty-blonde hair twelve-year- old boy jumps up and down joyously before my eyes. Instantaneously, he runs to his parents and embraces them, squeezing them to death.  
  
I know that boy.  
  
His two-year-old sister waddles over to him, a badly-wrapped present in her hand. She hands it to him and squeals, "Mewwy Cwisthmas!"  
  
I know that girl.  
  
"Like, thanks, Sugie!," the boy says. He opens the present and finds a macaroni heart pasted on a paper plate with unreadable words scribbled on with crayon that could only mean her love for him. He kisses her and hugs her as much as he did with his parents.  
  
I knew that boy.  
  
The girl giggles and says, "Your welcome!"  
  
I knew that girl.  
  
The older sixteen-year-old makes way through the wrappings that cover the floor and hand the boy a present of her own. "This is for you, squirt."  
  
I know that girl.  
  
He opens the present and finds a brand-new Gameboy game in his hands. "Wow! Awesome! Like, an X-Men game! Thanks, Maggie!" She shrugs and the two hug.  
  
I knew that girl.  
  
"We have a bigger surprise for you, honey," his mother says, her father bringing in a big box, holes cut into the sides.  
  
"O my gosh! Is it--is it what I think it is?!" The boy rushes to the box and opens it.  
  
Then everything turns black.  
  
*******************  
  
I wake up in a pile of red and orange leaves. I spit one that I find in my mouth and hastily wipe the disgusting taste off my tongue. I look around and all I see are autumn trees. I try to put two and two together.  
  
It's July.  
  
And the trees are red and orange.  
  
AND I LIVE IN THE SOUTHERN PART OF CALIFORNIA.  
  
"Shaggy."  
  
I yell to hear a voice behind and swing around. My arm hits something hard, I hear a scream and see a body fly into a tree. When I look up and really see who said "Shaggy" it's none other than--  
  
"Freddie?!"  
  
"Yes, that's me, Fred Jones," he begins; "teenage sleuth, WHO'S BEEN BEING TORTURED FOR THE LAST TWO DAYS!!!" He breathes heavily for a while then says, "I'm okay."  
  
"Like, you sure?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then, could you possibly, like, explain why the trees around us have red and orange leaves?"  
  
He looks up around him, looking at the trees, puzzled. He then looks at me. "I could give you a scientific explanation but that would be Velma's job so--no."  
  
"Like, that makes two of us," I reply. I get up. "Like, d'you know where the girls are?"  
  
He gets up. "I was hoping you'd know."  
  
We both look around for any sign of the girls but we find none. So we start walking. The trees loom about us, looking very much like things out of a Lord of the Rings movie. Piles of leaves reside at the foot of each tree. Then the evident question pops up when Freddie stops suddenly: "Shag, do you have any idea where we are?"  
  
I gulp. "No."  
  
"How are we gonna find the girls?"  
  
There's a rustle nearby and we turn around, looking every which way. "I was hoping we could, like, find them by chance." We keep looking around as the rustling becomes more and more loud. I look up and the canopy of the red trees let's very few light into the forest. We find hard to locate where the noise comes from and back up slowly until my shoulder hits something warm.  
  
"Augh!"  
  
"Aah!"  
  
"Omigod!"  
  
"Uhh!"  
  
I turn around and discover Daphne and Velma leaning against trees breathing heavily. "Give me a memo the next time you're gonna scare me," Daphne says.  
  
I shudder as I let my own heart calm down from the scare. I stare at the girls a moment and after a while, Daphne notices. "What?," she asks.  
  
"You guys aren't in PJ's or nightgowns or whatever you were, like, wearing to sleep."  
  
The girls look at themselves as they each find day clothes on them. Daphne wears a light green shirt with white bordering the end of the sleeves, the bottom of the shirt which comes to a point, and the V-neck of the shirt. She has on beige jeans with a black belt and has on regular beige striped shoes instead of her usual purple high-heels. Velma has on the blue jean overall and orange sleeve-less shirt from yesterday at the mall. She also has regular shoes on. They both look up, perplexed.  
  
Daphne looks at me, then Freddie. "Well, you shouldn't really be talking yourself, PJ boy or should I say boys?"  
  
I look down at myself and place my hands on what should be a green PJ shirt. Instead, I have on the hooded plum-colored sweatshirt with the green circle in the middle I bought for myself the other day. Instead of green PJ pants, I have on some black baggy "swishy" pants I haven't been wearing in a while with a chain hanging from them and my regular black shoes with the white stripe down the middle. I look towards Freddie who everyone seems to be looking at right now.  
  
Oh my dear God.  
  
I, of course, hadn't noticed it before, but know I do. Not that it's weird. Okay, yeah, it is. He has on a blue T-shirt with an orange stripe across the middle instead of the white sweater with the blue collar and the blue stripe across the middle. Instead of the tight blue pants he has on looser faded blue jeans with excessive pockets like mine. Blue sneakers replace the brown boots. He looks up and smiles sheepishly.  
  
Daphne laughs and asks, "Since when did you have that in your closet?"  
  
"Since 'I forgot when'," he answers. "Well, look at the rest of you."  
  
Daphne just keeps looking up with a "this-is-sad" expression on her face and replies: "We did."  
  
"So, like, we've all found out we're not that all conservative," I break the silence.  
  
Velma sighs, smirking. "Wow, Shaggy. You? A-a punk? I honestly would never have known."  
  
"Not punk--half punk," I point out.  
  
I cold wind howls past us and Daphne says what I'm thinking aloud: "I don't like this place, wherever we are."  
  
"Yeah, I, like, totally agree," I assent. "Like, how are we gonna know where to go to escape this place. I compass isn't gonna help."  
  
We all look at Freddie who now studies a compass in his hand. He looks up. "What? It was in my pocket."  
  
A warmer, stronger wind blows again and Daphne looks towards the direction it blows. "Call it women's intuition or call it whatever you want but I have a strong feeling we should go in that direction."  
  
I wonder if there's such a thing as men's intuition because I have a weird feeling we should follow the direction the wind just blew in, too. "Like, I think we should go in that direction, too."  
  
"Yeah," Velma and Freddie agree.  
  
I have another question on my mind, though.  
  
Or questions.  
  
"But what I'd like to know is one: where in this world is where we are; two: why we're here; three: where that note is; and four; WHERE IS SCOOBY- DOO?"  
  
Velma looks at me sympathetically. "I think that's what we'd all like to know." Freddie and Daphne nod in agreement.  
  
I look at each of them by turn.  
  
"Then, like, let's get started." 


	12. In It Together

MYSTERY, INC.: UNLEASHED  
  
BY: MYST_X  
  
Disclaimer: I do not (though every bit of my heart wish I could) own any of the Scooby-Doo characters, preferably Mystery, Inc. They are the property of Warner Bros. and Hanna-Barbera. I am writing this story without permission and its not for a profit.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
IN IT TOGETHER  
(velma's P.O.V.)  
  
"Okay, we're definitely lost," I declare.  
  
"Dude, I've lost a lot more things than myself," Shaggy says. "Like, of all those things, I miss my mind the most."  
  
"Uh, I'm freezing!," Daphne exclaims, hugging herself. "You'd think I'd be put in warmer clothes!"  
  
"Well, we live in the warmer part of California," I point out.  
  
"They could have put me in a sleeping bag then," she murmurs.  
  
We all look at Freddie, the only one of us who hasn't complained or commented on our 5-minute walk. He's staring at his compass again. "What?"  
  
"That's it! It's definitely getting colder!," Daphne yells. She bumps into Shaggy who's stopped abruptly. "Shaggy, will you--" She stops and stares straight ahead. "Oh my gosh."  
  
I turn to the direction they look towards.  
  
And it's kind of weird.  
  
Maybe.  
  
Totally.  
  
Straight ahead is a forest completely covered in fresh snow. But we're still in a autumn-like forest.  
  
"What are you guys staring at?," Freddie asks, now catching up. He looks at the white forest. "Oookay, I say we turn back around." He sharply turns around and starts walking in the opposite direction.  
  
"Wait," I say. "Freddie, what direction is the direction we're facing?" Shaggy, Daphne, and I look at him.  
  
He shruggs and sighs. "I wouldn't be able to tell you. My compass has gone haywire since we got here."  
  
We all look at each other. Daphne crosses her arms in annoyance and in an attempt to keep herself warm. She points out the obvious: "That's not good." She shivers and sighs, adding: "And the thing is, I still have a good feeling we're supposed to be going in that direction." She points towards the snowy woods.  
  
Silence surrrounds us.  
  
"Yeah." Shaggy looks towards the snowfilled forest. "I'm going, for Scooby." He starts for the forest.  
  
"That's easy for you to say, you've got a sweater," Daphne says.  
  
Ignoring her, he walks into the snow. And I can't believe my eyes. He turns out wearing winter attire. A coat, a hat, gloves, everything. I look at Daphne and I can tell she doesn't believe it either.  
  
"That's it! I'm next!," Daphne calls out. She runs into the snow and finds herself wearing a coat, gloves, a hat, and snow boots also. She smiles and laughs. "Ha! I'm warm!"  
  
Freddie and I look at each other and make a run for it. My clothes change in an instant into warmer attire. I don't even feel the change. We all laugh. I turn to Freddie who's been awfully quiet and "unleader-like", obsessed with his useless compass for the past 7 minutes. "Hey, Freddie, what's the matter?," I ask.  
  
He looks up from looking at his new clothes and puts on a perplexed face. "I'm fine but thanks for caring."  
  
I roll my eyes and sigh. "You haven't said, 'Split up gang' or 'Follow me, this way' or anything that might put you in the position of a leader." Daphne and Shaggy seem to nod in agreement.  
  
"Well," Freddie begins, "I don't know where we are, one, and two--" He smiles. "I don't think this is a mystery but maybe more of a quest that we're all on. I'm not so sure that it would be right for me to assume the role of a leader--but more of a friend. We should all--I think--take on the part as a friend. It's Scooby we're looking for--it's Scooby we're gonna find." He pauses. "We're all in this together."  
  
An aura of warmth and pride partially forms between us and smiles spread across our faces. "Yeah, we're all in this together," I repeat.  
  
Hope y'all liked it! Review if you did and if you didn't, don't. More to come!  
  
Myst-X 


	13. On Fire

MYSTERY, INC.: UNLEASHED  
  
BY: MYST_X  
  
Disclaimer: I do not (yes, it's sadly true that I don't) own any of the Scooby-Doo characters, preferably Mystery, Inc, or "On Fire" by Switchfoot. They are the property of Warner Bros., Hanna-Barbera and... the record company... I am writing this story without permission and its not for a profit.  
  
A/N: I'M ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! no, really I am. lol, I feel like Genie from "Aladdin" coming out of that lamp. It's been forever since I've updated. Well, I'm sorry y'all but I have finally added two more chapters! I also edited another one, "Getting Started", about the punk think w/Shaggy cuz I thought it would be too much if Shaggy were a punk but maybe just "half punk", lol. (y'all are probably wondering what I'm on with all this blabbing on and on about all these insignificant things) Well, I hope you like these next two chapters. "On Fire" is based off of the song "On Fire" by Switchfoot (great alt. rock band!). MAY FRED/DAPHNE LIVE ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ....  
  
*****************************************************************  
ON FIRE  
(freddie's p.o.v.)  
  
A weird, deafening silence, as ironic as it seems, has surrounded us and one can almost hear the snowlflakes fall as they now begin to descend upon us. The snow is up to my ankle and I'm engulfed by total whiteness. The sky is a pale gray, the snow piles up against trees and rocks, and even the trees are of a pale gray color. It's strange, because, everything seems entirely dead yet, totally full of life at the same time. There's such a small, bizarre aura of existence that is present out of all the lack of color and nature. Everything's cold but there still is that feeling of warmth that sits inside of me.  
  
Burning.  
  
Like fire.  
  
Out of nowhere a snowball hits my face.  
  
And it burns.  
  
Like fire.  
  
"Shaggy!," I yell, picking up some snow and hurling it at him while he runs away and laughs madly. My snowball hits a tree that is nowhere near Shaggy and he turns around and sticks his tongue out at me like a little kid. I miss the old days when me and Shag used to joke around--not too much but always enough to get the girls at least a little ticked off. I laugh and sigh.  
  
"You're aim's getting worse," a voice says and I look over at Daphne.  
  
I smile. It's that warmth again. But stronger. "Well, you know I play right field; I'm not the greatest pitcher."  
  
Daphne shakes her head, grinning. She picks up some snow and forms it into a perfectly round sphere. She seems to look at Shaggy who's about 25 feet in front of us. And she throws it.  
  
Shaggy almost falls over with the blow that the snowball gives him in the back of the head. Him and Velma turn around--him with a glare on his face.  
  
"That was payback," Daphne yells. "From him!" She points at me.  
  
"I-ah-wha--" I stutter.  
  
"You don't hafta, like, lie Daph," Shaggy yells. "I know Freddie doesn't, like, have that kind of aim, at least not anymore!"  
  
My hand smacks on my face and I stretch my face down. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"  
  
Daphne shrugs. "Why would I do it accidentally?"  
  
It's a complete dé-já vu. Way back, in 8th grade, we were playing-------- no, it's exactly the same. This happened in seventh grade when I first liked--  
  
"Daphne," I whisper. But she hears.  
  
"Yes?," Daphne asks.  
  
"Uh, um . . ." I totally blank out. I used to have a crush on Daphne. I long time ago. In 8th grade. But that crush ended that same year since we became friends. She's only a former crush or--  
  
It's that burning again. That fire. But she's just a . . . friend. Or-- I don't know what to think anymore. I'm standing next to a friend. But still, I'm burning like I never have before. The fiery heat. It's my soul. My heart. I'm on fire.  
  
I've fallen in love with her.  
  
"Daphne, I have to tell you something," I say gently.  
  
"Yeah, well, I've been kind of waiting since you first said my name," she says, crossing her arms across her chest and smirking.  
  
"Daphne, I--" Should I say it? It's right at the tip of my tongue. At my lips. My heart feels like its going to jump out of my chest. I feel sweat running down my face in ten degree Fahrenheit weather. Dear Lord, God, help me. I think He's the only one who can now. I take a big, huge breath. "I used to like you a few years ago, when we first met, but then I just became friends with you and it was allright with me but now . . . well, I think I've ended up in square one again but this time I've fallen in love with you . . ." All this time I've been looking down and I finally look up to see the look on Daphne's face. And it's not really an assuring one. She's solemn and silent. I feel a sort of emptiness between us as snow blows around us. Her eyes seem glazed as if she were looking past me. "I understand if you don't feel the same way about me; I just needed to get that off my chest."  
  
Daphne speaks her firsts words now. "I . . . I . . ." She furrows her eyebrows and looks worried. Scared. "I . . ." Still no answer. I'm about to tell her that it's all right if she doesn't know but she starts to speak again.  
  
"I'm sorry but . . . . . . I don't know!" And she runs, leaving me alone with cold skin and a hot heart.  
  
Did I do the right thing? 


	14. Follow

FOLLOW  
(daphne's p.o.v.)  
  
How long have I been running? Have I run far? Am I anywhere near my friends?  
  
Why am I running?  
  
I stop, gasping, and hold on a low tree branch for support. I've made a total idiot of myself! I must have seemed like such a jerk. I pull my hair in punishment for myself. Crap. If I could do that moment over again, I would--- I wouldn't know what to say. I didn't know what to say, I don't know what to say. I'm in complete bewilderment. I don't know if I ever liked Freddie. I thought I did but we ended up being friends so I never got around to sorting out my feelings for him. Maybe I've liked him this whole time and I never knew. And I should have known he liked me by the way he always tried to prove that my dates and boyfriends weren't worth it. And by the way he always smiled at me . . . But I just don't know what to think. I have no idea. "I have no idea," I whisper as salty tears reach the corner of my mouth.  
  
"Just follow your heart."  
  
I look up but find no one there. Who had just said that? Or maybe this love business is driving me crazy. "Who's there?"  
  
Giggles.  
  
"Okay," I say. "You can stop playing games, Shag!"  
  
"Nah, it's not him."  
  
"All right, that's it," I say. "Will you PLEASE come--"  
  
She appears.  
  
Never have I seen anything so dreadfully beautiful.  
  
"You--Wh-what are you?"  
  
The girl is dressed in a pale robe that drapes over her body gracefully. A bright but peaceful light illuminates her and feather surround her. "An angel," she says simply.  
  
"You're beautiful," I comment.  
  
"Nah. He's more amazing than me," she responds.  
  
" 'He' ?"  
  
"Yeah, Him." She looks up and smiles. God runs through my mind.  
  
"Wait, but, why are you here?," I dare to ask.  
  
"You felt scared. And since we're here, I guess I could appear to you once and help you face to face. It's kind of my job as your guardian angel."  
  
"But--where's here?"  
  
"That's for Him to know and you to find out," the angel answers. She smiles again. "Now, you say you don't know if you like Freddie or not."  
  
"Well, I'm sure I like him. I just don't know if I really love him. I mean, maybe I do but . . . I'm not sure. And I don't want to go back there, I mean--I'll just make a fool of myself--what would I say?" It's amazing how I have a sudden confidence in the figure that stands in front of me.  
  
"Just like I said before--follow your heart."  
  
"But that's the problem. I don't know what my heart is telling me."  
  
The heavenly figure rolls her eyes playfully. "Have you ever seen Disney's 'Pocahontas'?"  
  
"Yeah . . ."  
  
"Take that concept and use it. Be silent and listen. And if you need help- -" She looked up again to the sky. "Contact Him, His Son, or Mary. They'll help you." She begins to fade, slowly at first, then faster.  
  
"B-but wait! How do I find my way back?," I yell.  
  
~They'll help you~  
  
And she's gone.  
  
I lean against a tree, hugging myself. My heart. Follow my heart.  
  
My heart.  
  
Follow.  
  
My.  
  
Heart.  
  
I've made my decision and I pray an Our Father, a Hail Mary, and a Glory Be and ask God to help me find my way. In a matter of minutes I find Freddie walking beside Shaggy and Velma. "Freddie, I need to tell you something."  
  
Freddie stops and Shaggy almost does except for the fact that Velma pulls him away saying, "Don't butt into their business Shaggy!"  
  
"So, um, I wanted to say I'm sorry," Freddie says.  
  
"No. I should be sorry," I say. "I said I didn't know before. But I know now. Through all these years I never knew exactly what I thought about you. But now I know that I've fallen in love with you."  
  
He looks into my eyes, searching. "Are you sure? I don't wanna force--"  
  
I place my hand on his chest to stop him. "Really. I have." And I hug him with all the love in my heart that's for him, my friends, my family, and the Lord.  
  
A/N: Did you like? You know what to do---you likeyou review---you don't likeyou don't review-----¿comprendes?  
Myst-X 


	15. What Really Matters

_MYSTERY, INC.: _**UNLEASHED **

_BY: MYST-X_

_Disclaimer: _I do not (well, not yet, at least) own any of the Scooby-Doo characters, preferably Mystery, Inc. They are the property of Warner Bros., Hanna-Barbera. I am writing this story without permission and its not for a profit.

A/N: Yes, yes, okay. Come to my house and strangle me. Hunt me down and hit me. Strike me down, drown me, stalk me, shoot me, sue me, bash my head against the wall, burn my face with an iron, throw me off the highest building in the world: just don't kill me! (makes no sense, I know) I'm sorry ((sobs)) I really am! Finals, project after project, after school help and activities, my bro's baseball games . . . . . But here! I give you ((fanfare)): the third to last chapter of _Mystery, Inc._: **UNLEASHED**! . . . ((fanfare stops)) ((cricket ... cricket ... cricket))

WHAT REALLY MATTERS

(shaggy's p.o.v.)

It's gotten warmer since we entered a spring section of the forest. I've given up trying to figure out where we are or why we're here and so has everyone else. Strangely, I feel like I haven't left Daphne's room. Now I've gotten to think how mean I acted towards Scooby-Doo yesterday. The guilt brings a depressing feeling and my eyes start to water because he wasn't the only one I acted rude towards.

Daphne and Velma walk towards the side to talk. Freddie moves towards me. "Do you think this is all a dream?," he asks.

"Like, I hope so," I tell him. "Like, I really miss Scooby."

"Yeah, me too." He hesitates. Then asks: "Do . . . Do you hate me? For always making you bait? And for always sending you alone with Scooby when you don't want to?"

Weird. "I hate it when you, like, do that but--not you. Like, why would I hate you? You're, like, my friend."

"Yeah, but . . . I dunno." Freddie swings his arms forward and back and sighs. "I feel like I've been kinda mean to you these past few years. Treating you like--I dunno--dirt? . . . Like a--a--just a colleague--no, that sounds too professional--like just a member of this team . . . . . . you know, not a friend?" I just nod and smile a bit, encouraging him to keep speaking because I know he has something else on his mind, not because he finally--maybe--understands that-- "We're not the best friends we used to be . . . you know, _years_ ago--way back in 7th or 8th grade when . . . " He looks at me with a weary and sheepish grin and sighs again. "Are--you--you know--gettin' what I'm--"

"Yeah, yeah, like, yeah, I know--I'm, um--"

"--yeah, 'cuz we used to be best friends and--"

"--yeah, but, like, maybe it was me--"

"--no, no--it was all my fault, 'cuz the--"

"--but, like, I kinda--"

"--but still, I'm really the one--"

We babble like idiots for about 30 more seconds when Daphne intrudes. "Are you guys okay?"

"Uh, like, we're fine."

"Yeah, we're okay."

We smile widely but Daphne just gives us her "you guys are weird" look and turns back to Velma. We begin to laugh.

"So, um, do you think we can be best friends again?," Freddie concludes.

"Like, 'absotutively'," I declare and we shake hands warmly. Wow, we're best friends again. We begin to talk about old times when we used to do things together without the girls but with Scooby. Then we start to talk about Scooby.

"If we ever find Scooby, I wanna tell him I'm sorry, too," Freddie says.

"Like, he'll forgive you," I assure him. "He forgives everyone. Like, I hope."

"What are you talking about?"

I pick a leaf off of a tree we pass and start to play with it in my hand. "Like, you know--at the mall when I, like, yelled at him. I still feel bad. Like, I'm hoping he can forgive me, too." He simply nods and doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. I think Freddie understands enough when it comes to things like these. And it leads me to ask him: "Did you ever tell your brother that you hated him? And, like, did you ever tell him you wished he could disappear forever?"

Freddie looks at me but doesn't ask and instead answers: "I--well--" He smiles. "There was this one time--" He looks up, sighs, then looks down again and keeps a small grin. "--wow, I was mean. Well, so was he but--there was this one time I wanted him to play with me--I was 11, he was 19. He said he was busy so I asked if I could help. He told me I couldn't because he was working on his car. I wouldn't take no for an answer so while he was away, doing something else, I rolled under the car and tried to see what the problem was. 'Course, back then I had no absolute idea how anything in a car could be fixed and I got my face covered in oil. I ran back to Mom with a black face and she went and blamed Ned. Ned explained and defended saying it was my fault I got my face as black as the driveway. Right then I told him, 'Shut up, I hate you!', but Mom told me to keep quiet and that in a way he was right." He stops because he's answered my question, but adds: "She still got kind of blamed but neither of us got grounded. We just kind of laughed it off. And I told Ned I was sorry for telling him that I hated him. Honestly, I never meant it. I was kind of angry, that's all. And the only way of showing it was telling him that I hated him. But I really love him. Otherwise, I would never have wanted him to play with me."

"Yeah," I say pointlessly. How could I have been so mean to Sugie? I really do love her. She's my sister and so is Maggie. Guilt's building up inside of me again. I want to tell Freddie about my little fight with her the other night but decide not to. Although he's my best friend, I really feel I don't want to talk about it with him. It's weird, but I don't. There's something else I don't want to tell him about. My little discovered crush on Velma. But right now, she's my friend and I'm guessing that's all that matters. "Like, I love you guys."

The rest of them stare at me with bewildered countenances. "Like, what do you want me to do--hate you?" We all laugh.

And now that I've gotten to thinking, I'd like to add: "I love you, family."

'Cuz that's all that matters.

A/N: Yes, I've gotten as low as adding one chapter at a time, I know but I really like this chapter because it fixes things between Freddie and Shaggy, something I don't necessarily like about WNSD? (and believe me, I really love that series) It's just that it's always ticked me that the only two guys--besides Scooby and he's a dog--in the gang aren't really best friends . . . . . so I decided to fix that little problem in this fanfic (hee-hee-hee ..... ) So please R&R and no flames pwease!!!

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Myst-X

PS. Yeah, I was looking at the last time I updated and it was like WHOA!---FEBRUARY?!?! That's like (counts on fingers) 6 MONTHS AGO!!!!.... But since then I've seen SD2: Monsters Unleashed and I have to say, I thought it was way, waaay, WAAAAAAY better than the first one. I honestly entered the theater thinking it wasn't gonna be that good but, like I said, it was (I believe) WAAAAAAAAAAAAAY better than the first one. Thcooby wath tho koot! (translation: Scooby was so cute!) He was cute in the first one too but I dunno, I liked this one WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY much better. I believed it was much funnier too. I gave the first one, like, 5 outta 10 stars--I give the second one, like, 8.7 outta 10 stars (I know, I'm weird, but the way Scooby and Shaggy were excluded from the rest of the gang was like NOOOOOO.... but I think it was resolved at the end, heehee) and the monsters were like COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL, especially the 10,000 volt dude and so was the pterodactyl (I spelled that wrong, I know) and the cotton candy thing and the tar monster and Captain Cutler's ghost and the skeleton things (no those were kinda freaky) but it was like COOOOOOOOOL and I'm like freaking all you readers out so I'll stop.

. . . . . . hee-hee


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